


Eight Limbs, Four Wings, Two Faces, and Zero Sets of Genitalia

by pundromeda



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: God Ships It, Other, Philosophy, Soulmates, angels without genitals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-15
Updated: 2019-06-15
Packaged: 2020-05-12 01:27:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19218811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pundromeda/pseuds/pundromeda
Summary: In which Aziraphale and Crowley are idiots and the Almighty makes popcorn.





	Eight Limbs, Four Wings, Two Faces, and Zero Sets of Genitalia

In the fourth century BC, the philosopher Plato suggested that all humans were originally created as single beings with four arms, four legs, two faces, and two sets of genitalia. He went on to say that Zeus split these humans in two as punishment for some deed, dooming them to walk the earth aimlessly in search of their other half.

As with most human attempts to decipher the nature of creation, this was only slightly correct, but in a sort of tangled way that most mortals would have trouble understanding. Human souls do, in fact, have more affinity for some souls than others, but this has less to do with an octopedal origin and more to do with the fact that their constituent atoms were somewhat nearer each other at the time of creation then they were to the rest.

Angels, on the other hand, were created with eight limbs, four wings, two faces, and zero sets of genitalia. When it became clear that flying with eight limbs and four wings was not graceful in the slightest, the Almighty decided to separate them. Also, She thought that playing matchmaker might be a fun side project.

Six thousand years later, nearly all of the former pairs had found each other again. That is to say, all but one. Out of the millions of angels and demons in all of creation, only one pair had turned out to have one of each,[1] and God would be damned if She let the world end without these two — excuse Her French — Goddamn idiots acknowledging their feelings for one other.

The idiots in question are currently sitting on a park bench, an entire _foot_ apart, steadfastly avoiding the topic of “what do we do now that the world didn’t end and our respective sides don’t give a shit that we’re madly in love with each other”.

“You really could be nicer to your plants,” said the angel, whose name was Aziraphale.

“A little tough love never hurt anyone,” said the demon, whose name was Crowley.

“Oh? It didn’t hurt you?”

“Hmm?”

“When you fell[2] from Heaven?”

The demon gave a little exasperated groan, then checked his watch. It had been one week since Armageddon didn't happen, and they had booked a table, actually  _booked_ it in advance, at the Ritz to celebrate. Crowley tried not to think too hard about the fact that it was basically a date by human standards. 

"Come on, angel. We'll miss our reservation."

■ ■ ■

Three hours, one dinner, two desserts (both eaten by Aziraphale), and several glasses of champagne later, they had retired to Crowley’s apartment for a nightcap. This was an exciting turn of events, in God’s opinion, because they usually went to the bookshop instead.

“Are you quite sure they are wrestling, my dear?” The angel was transfixed by the statue of two winged, male-bodied figures in a decidedly compromising position.

“What else would they be doing? They’re angels, they don’t have genitals.”

Aziraphale leaned in and examined the two figures’ pelvic regions. Crowley was correct. “How did the sculptor know, I wonder?”[3]

“Beats me.” Crowley handed a glass to his other half, brushing their fingers together in a non-accidental manner that he hoped came across as accidental.[4] At this point, God conjured up a snack that to mortal eyes might look like glittering popcorn that could permanently blind you if you caught the reflection just wrong.

Aziraphale blushed and quickly turned back to the statue. “You know, the way they’re tangled together it reminds me of the old tale they tell in Heaven. The one about the creation of angels. Do you know it?”

“Oh yes, of course. Hastur and Ligur wouldn’t shut up about it. Kept teasing me that I’d never find my perfect, demony other half if I spent all my time on Earth.” Crowley made a face that explained just how he felt about that. “I’d think my other half, if they exist, would like Earth just as much as I do, wouldn’t they?”

“I don’t imagine there are any other demons or angels who love Earth as much as we do. And all of the angels in Heaven seem to be paired up anyways, so there’s not much hope for me either.”

“Right.”

“Right.”

A momentary silence fell over the room as they contemplated this. God threw celestial popcorn at Her metaphysical television screen and yelled at them to _get on with it already_ , taking care not to let Her voice boom into the physical world. This was always more exciting when it happened naturally.

“Hold on—”

“You don’t th—”

They began speaking at the same time, both having come to a realization.

“You first,” said the demon, chickening out.

“Well,” said Aziraphale, “it’s only that I do believe you were an angel once upon a time.”

“I was.”

“And if the story is true—”

“I think it is.”

“Then do you think _we_ could—”

Aziraphale was unable to finish his sentence because his perfect, demony other half's lips were suddenly covering his own. It felt like nothing he'd ever experienced before, and yet was akin to returning to his bookshop after a long day and settling down with a good book and a nice hot cup of cocoa. That is to say, it felt like home.

Upstairs, the Almighty let out a cheer and politely turned off the screen. She could watch the replay later, but, for now, they deserved some privacy. Her work here was done.

* * *

[1] This was a bit of a bummer, in God’s opinion. It made the matchmaking for the rest of them way too easy. [back]

[2] Aziraphale would have said “sauntered vaguely downwards”, but that did not fit the structure of the commonly used pick-up line, and he was, technically, trying to flirt. [back]

[3] The Almighty does not often interfere with human affairs these days. It was a rather addictive and often destructive habit that She had to cut back on millennia ago. But a couple hundred years prior to Armageddon-That-Wasn’t, She may have influenced a certain sculptor to create a certain statue, and then set about the chain of events that would lead to its existence in this apartment, at this very moment. [back]

[4] Crowley was also, technically, trying to flirt. [back]

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you guys had as much fun reading this little thing as I did writing it!
> 
> I’m also pundromeda on tumblr.


End file.
